At the same time, Cecil sensed a deeper shift taking place inside his body. It was not the brief surge of warmth that came when points were added to Agility or Speed. This change was slower and far more sustained — like water beginning to seep from the bed of a dried‑up river. Thin trickles crept along cracks, gradually soaking through until they merged into a shallow stream.
He opened his eyes and stared down at his hands. Nothing appeared different on the surface, yet he could feel his skin running half a degree cooler than normal. A faint blue‑white glimmer flickered within the lines of his palms, only to vanish after a few seconds.
Gwendolyn lifted her head from the pillow and glanced at him. Her blue eyes brightened in the dimness, as though a tiny lamp had been lit deep within her icy‑blue pupils.
"Something inside you has changed," she said. "In those few seconds when you closed your eyes, that scent on you — the aura of frost — grew stronger."
Gwendolyn’s tail twitched upward.
"That ’Frost Resonance’... can you feel it working now?"
Cecil closed his eyes to sense it. That broad, cool current still flowed slowly in the depths of his awareness, like a silent underground river. The invisible thread connecting him to Gwendolyn had grown far clearer, as if a thin cotton string had been replaced by a thicker hemp rope.
"I can feel it. The bond between us — it’s much sharper than before."
Gwendolyn squatted on the edge of the bed and fell silent for roughly three seconds.
Her tone quickly slipped back into its usual lazy, dismissive drawl. "That skill package of yours — Frost Resonance — you need to train it."
"How do I train it?"
"You already just did." Gwendolyn nodded her chin toward his chest. "When you felt the connection grow clearer, that was the resonance taking effect. The more often you call upon that link, the higher your resonance efficiency will become. Once you can maintain that connection without breaking it while fighting —" she paused "— you will be ready to learn the next skill."
Cecil looked at her. "Do you know what Frost‑Armor Convergence is?"
Gwendolyn did not give a direct answer. She glanced down at her front claw. A thin layer of white frost condensed at the tip, then dissipated.
"It... was a skill," she said. " If you can cast it through your body for me, it will be the same as restoring part of my power."
Cecil nodded. He did not press her for more. He could hear the faint stiffness in her voice whenever she spoke of "the old days", like someone standing before a closed door, knowing they could push it open yet not quite ready to do so.
Cecil’s body kept changing.
Slowly, but continuously. That half‑degree‑cooler sensation beneath his skin was like a riverbed widening, little by little resetting his baseline body temperature. He had always been sensitive to cold, needing two thin blankets once autumn arrived. Now —
He touched his arm. It was neither cold nor warm, a perfectly balanced constant temperature he had never experienced before, as if a self‑regulating furnace had awakened inside him.
Eventually, he fell asleep.
The next morning, Cecil woke earlier than usual. No tail had slapped him awake; he had roused naturally.
He sat up and looked at his hands.
His palms still showed no outward sign of change. Closing his eyes, he activated the channel of Frost Resonance. That invisible bond had thickened further, like a hemp rope twisted over and over, swollen at both ends. He could sense Gwendolyn far more distinctly on the other side. She was still asleep, breathing steadily, the blue‑white light deep within her soul pulsing like a quiet beating heart.
He opened his eyes. Gwendolyn was curled on the pillow, her tail covering her nose, fast asleep. Beneath the scales on her abdomen, that dark‑red fragment glowed faintly in the morning light, a little brighter than it had been the day before.
Cecil did not wake her. He climbed quietly out of bed, pulled on his robe, fastened the bracer to his left forearm, slipped potion vials into his inner pocket, and strapped his rusted blade to his waist. Then he sat down at the table and waited. He watched the grey‑blue dawn outside the window turn pale gold, until he heard Edwin’s door creak open down the corridor.
Edwin’s voice came from outside. "Cecil?"
"I’m coming."
Cecil stood up. Gwendolyn was still asleep on his shoulder — she had somehow climbed from the pillow and nestled into the hollow between his collar and neck, a small ball of blue‑white scales. He did not move her aside and simply pulled open the door and stepped out.
In the corridor, Edwin was already wearing his robe. His copper‑shell beetle clung to the back of his collar as usual, its two antennae tilted upward. He glanced at Cecil, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment.
"You look... different."
"How so?"
"I can’t put my finger on it." Edwin frowned. "Just... more energetic? Your complexion is better."
Cecil glanced at the back of his hand. Nothing was visible. Yet his fingertips ran half a degree colder, a sensation only he could feel. He touched his cheek with his other hand; it was cool, like stone left in the shade for too long.
"Let’s go," he said.
The two of them walked side‑by‑side down the spiral stairs of the old tower, crossing the mist‑filled courtyard toward the main hall. Gwendolyn still slept upon his shoulder, her tail twitching now and then like a cat dreaming of dried fish.
As Cecil walked, the channel of Frost Resonance deep inside his mind trembled slightly. It was not Gwendolyn moving; the link pulsed on its own, like a newly‑born second heart finding its rhythm.
He gently touched that little blue‑white ball on his shoulder.
"Gwendolyn."
"...Mm?"
"I’ve leveled up."
"I know." She did not open her eyes, her voice muffled. "I can feel you’ve become heavier. Not your weight — something else."
Cecil asked no further questions and kept walking forward.
He really was a little heavier today.
Because the riverbed inside him was growing wider. The water still flowed slowly, yet there was more of it than yesterday.